Nineteen more days, until I'm fourteen,
It doesn't matter, you all think I'm mean.
Not a child anymore, but not an adult,
I get told this, it is an insult.
You think you know me, you think I'm young,
I hope you choke, on your friggin tongue.
I remember being small, not a care in the world,
Like five colors of paint, my life has been swirled.
Just like a lie, I can see it in your face,
I am the problem child, I'm your disgrace.
You find out that I drink, you know that I smoke,
You can't handle the truth, too much to provoke.
As you watch, my life slips past you,
It's all over, we're stuck just like glue.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|Britney (126.96.36.199) -- Wednesday, February 16 2005, 03:05 am|
I like i'm 14 too. I liked it though. ~Britney~
Click here to read other Poems by Mere
Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack
COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved. No part of this website, including all pictures and written words, may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without permission of the original author of the work. All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner. All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.org so the proper person may be notified.